Comedy in Mobile: Pure, Joe Cain Cafe standing up

The Joe Cain Cafe, located in the Battle House Hotel in downtown Mobile, is an intimate setting for comedy. (Jon Hauge/Press-Register)

The laughs are back.

Stand-up comedy has been a sketchy proposition in Mobile for more than a decade. And that has simply been a reflection of national trends: It’s a truism in the entertainment business that a comedy boom in the late ‘80s led to too many second-rate clubs showcasing too many third-rate comics. The collapse that followed in the ‘90s was deep and long-lived. Few flavors linger quite as long, it seems, as the aftertaste of bad comedy.

But as 2011 gets rolling, Mobile has two venues committed to delivering comedy on a regular basis. One, the Joe Cain Café at the Battle House Hotel, has been at it for more than a year, in conjunction with the established Bonkerz chain of comedy clubs.

Other funny stuff:

Comedian Tim Allen, interviewed in last week’s edition of BW, appears Friday, Feb. 4, at IP Resort, Casino & Spa in Biloxi. Ticket prices range from $45 to $65; they are available through Ticketmaster and the casino box office, 888-WIN-AT-IP.

Comedian-ventriloquist Lynn Trefzger will appear at 7 p.m. Friday, Feb. 4, at the Mary C. O’Keefe Cultural Center in Ocean Springs. Admission is $15 for adults, $10 for children 12 and younger. 1600 Government St., Ocean Springs. For more information, call 228-818-2878 or visit www.themaryc.org.

The “Last Comic Standing Live Tour,” featuring finalists from the NBC program, comes to the Mobile Saenger Theatre at 7:30 p.m. Feb. 20. According to promotional materials, the show will feature Mike DeStefano, Felipe Esparza, Tommy Johnagin, Myq Kaplan and Roy Wood Jr. Tickets are $43 and $30; they are available at the Saenger box office and other Ticketmaster outlets. www.mobilesaenger.com, 251-208-5600.

The “Royal Comedy Tour,” featuring Sommore, D.L. Hughley, Bruce Bruce and Damon Williams, comes to the Mobile Civic Center Theater March 18. Tickets are $35 and $45 and can be purchased through Ticketmaster.

New on the scene is Pure, a restaurant and entertainment venue just off the intersection of Airport Boulevard and Azalea Road. Since opening late last year, it’s become a destination for live music and dancing, and now it’s adding weekly comedy to the lineup.

The two venues have a little in common: Both are distinctly upscale, and both tend to book acts you’ve kind of heard of — comedians good enough to appear on late-night talk shows, or make the first cut on “Last Comic Standing,” or appear on some cable TV comedy showcase.

Also in common: This is comedy without guarantees. You want guarantees? Pay $50 or $75 to see some bona fide celebrity comedian play the Mobile Civic Center, the Saenger, or a Biloxi casino. You’ll get what you expect.

At these price points all you can count on is that you’ll get journeymen experienced at playing with fire. The spark will be there; not knowing whether it will flare to a blaze or just smolder all night is just part of the fun.

All that said, the Joe Cain Café and Pure offer two distinctly different experiences. One is intimate; one comfortably holds nearly 300 people. One’s free, one’s not.

Raising Cain

Why present accomplished comedians for free? Battle House Manager Margo Gilbert said the Battle House has at least two motivations: It wants to make sure its guests have something to do while they’re in town, and it wants area residents to think of the storied hotel as “Mobile’s living room.”

Free comedy is a magnet intended to show locals that the hotel isn’t just a destination for out-of-towners. And it seems to work, Gilbert said: Attendance fluctuates, but on a typical night, about a third of the audience consists of people staying in the hotel.

“We’re always thrilled when we have people say, ‘Gosh, I haven’t been here since you reopened,’ and it’s coming up on four years now,” Gilbert said. “I’m always very encouraged to hear that.”

Shows generally take place once a month, with one performance on Friday and two on Saturday. Admission is free, but patrons are asked to make advance reservations. Bonkerz, a chain with national reach, handles the talent.

“They try to pick some good up-and-coming folks,” Gilbert said, “and they’ll also bring some folks who’ve been on Comedy Central or ‘Last Comic Standing,’ so there are some recognizable names.”

On a recent Friday, the headliner was Carmen Vallone, who’d just driven in from Orlando. He faced a well-dressed audience of around 50 people, close to a full house, most ranging in age from 30 to 50. The small stage put him low and close to the front row, while a few patrons were actually blocked out of sight by corners and columns. “I’ve never done comedy in a Starbucks before,” he cracked about the setting.

True, the layout of the café suits couples and small groups. And many had ordered appetizers or more substantial fare. But no Starbucks has a bar with this much top-shelf liquor, an asset neglected by neither Vallone nor his listeners.

In fact, as his show progressed, it became less like standup and more like a conversation, a relationship the audience seemed increasingly to enjoy as the usual wall between performer and audience came down. Vallone too seemed to enjoy letting a few guests become part of the act, smoothly reeling them in when necessary to maintain forward motion.

Pure’s plan to present comedy regularly on Friday nights starts with Thom Kaz, a Mobile native who honed “Hypnaughty,” a comedy hypnosis act, for seven years in Las Vegas. But once a month or so is enough for Kaz, who’ll appear at 8:30 p.m. Friday, Feb. 4. (Admission is $15; the club regularly offers two-for-one discounts through Facebook and print ads.)

Kaz’s bigger plan, which began in January, is to use his entertainment-industry experience to help book comedians of note. Some of these are on par with the Bonkerz/Joe Cain acts, but Kaz has his sights set on comics with more name recognition.

The first of these arrives Feb. 11, when Michael Winslow, most famous for his role as a human noise machine in the “Police Academy” movies, will do two shows. (See accompanying story.)

Emmett Furrow wields his weapons of choice at Pure. (John David Mercer/Press-Register)

But the turnout on Jan. 28 suggests Pure is already onto something. The club can comfortably seat about 275 people for a comedy show, Kaz said, and it appeared that perhaps half or two-thirds that many people had turned out for a show that was supposed to feature Artie Fletcher.

“Supposed to,” because snow had prevented Fletcher and his opener from flying out of New York. Instead, Mobilian Jacques West did a brief opening set, followed by Justin Thompson and Emmett Furrow, substitutes booked on short notice.

Pure, which was extensively remodeled prior to its opening in 2010, offered that crowd an impressive range of experiences. Tables on the floor in front of the stage welcomed large groups such as office parties; a raised bar area catered to those who preferred to smoke and mingle. Smaller tables and a row of stools at a rail in between allowed couples and loners a sense of privacy, while booths and a VIP lounge off to the sides presented yet more options. The open design meant there were few, if any, bad seats.

Many patrons had arrived early to take advantage of Pure’s full menu; others, as they entered, were already asking about the live band and drink specials that would follow the show. The range of ages was a little broader, both older and younger, than the gathering at Pure.

Kaz himself worked as master of ceremonies, assuring the crowd that “the more you drink, the funnier this s— gets.”

Of the two out-of-town performers, Thompson delivered the most solid set, with observational humor that catered particularly to the 40-something crowd. One highlight was an extended riff alleging that classic video games are full of drug references.

“They said Mario was a plumber,” he said. “Right. The only pipe that guy ever worked was a f—ing crack pipe.”

Furrow promised that his act was going to get weird, and it did, starting with his fondness for nunchuks as props. “Suddenly these don’t seem like the best seats, do they?” he teased the people sitting front and center as he twirled the weapons.

Furrow later revealed that he was born without collarbones, a point that allowed for some physical comedy that was unusual, to say the least. On this particular night, with this particular audience, the laughs were a little hit-or-miss, but it certainly didn’t lack for uniqueness.

It might have been unexpected, but it still fits in with the plans of Pure’s proprietors.

The biggest thing he hears from patrons, Kaz said, is “that they’re really excited about seeing something different in Mobile.”